One Wish
by SalvatoreKitten1
Summary: - My take on what I would have preferred to happen in 3x01, "The Birthday," Elena/Alaric Pairing Note: None of the characters belong to me.


**One Wish**

{**A Vampire Diaries Fan-Fiction**}

- My take on what I would have preferred to happen in 3x01, "The Birthday," (Elena/Alaric Pairing) Note: None of the characters belong to me.

**One:**

Elena knew she had to put on a brave face.

It was her birthday. She was supposed to be celebrating. But what did she have to celebrate? The fact she'd survived another year? She'd experienced more heartache, loss and suffering in the past twelve months, than was surely normal for any human being.

Thoughts of Stefan and his whereabouts had stirred emotions in her that she had to fight desperately to keep inside. His choice to give himself over to Klaus to save Damon's life, was what kept her awake at night. It haunted her each and every day; reminding her of how easy it was to love someone you loved.

Elena caught her reflection in the mirror and sighed. She looked miserable, at best. There was no way she could keep her promise to Damon, not to lose it before the night was through, but Caroline had gone to so much trouble to organise this 'surprise' party, which incidentally wasn't a surprise, since Elena knew about it the whole time. But she had to put in an appearance, no matter how fleeting it might be.

Elena gave her reflection a practiced smile, smoothing down the fabric of the white sundress she wore. She felt ready as she would ever be to face anyone.

Damon appeared behind her, his eyes a deeper shade of blue than usual above the violet dress shirt he wore. "Shall we?" he inquired smoothly, presenting her with his arm.

Elena merely nodded, grasping his proffered arm tightly. Her fingers rested on his forearm, the fabric of his silky shirt cool beneath them as he led her down the staircase.

. . .

**Damon's P.O.V.**

Damon had a particular air of smugness about him that evening. Blondie knew how to throw a party, he'd give her that much. But he was more focused on Elena, and getting her to forget about Stefan for more than five minutes. He figured he owed her that much.

Provided that Alaric kept his mouth shut and didn't screw things up again, things would fall into place as planned and by the end of the night, Elena would be seeking comfort in the _other_ Salvatore brothers arms. Damon would finally get what he'd always wanted.

**Alaric's P.O.V.**

Alaric wasn't impartial to Damon's schemes, but as much as he wanted Elena to know the truth, it mattered more to him to see her have a good time. And he would go to any length to make sure that happened. Even if it meant going against Damon's wishes.

Alaric wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was onto Damon and he knew the only time Elena would ever voluntarily be in Damon's arms, was over his dead body. Alaric figured; that could be arranged..

**Two:**

Elena wasn't the life of the party. In fact, she was far from enjoying herself. She couldn't keep up the facade of practiced cheerfulness, or the phony smile she'd affected to please her friends. Those who really knew her, like Caroline, saw right through it. They saw through the smile, the forced laughter, and saw that she was trying not to break.

Elena decided to take matters into her own hand; literally, lifting a flute of champagne from a tray of passing drinks and taking several gulps. Getting herself completely wasted may not have been the most mature reaction to her pain, but if she had to endure any more of this torture, it seemed a good enough place to start.

"Easy on the champagne, birthday girl," Damon whispered close to her ear, creating a diversion long enough to snatch the glass from her hand. "You'll thank me in the morning."

Elena whirled around to face him, her brown eyes full of fire. "Give that back, Damon," she growled out, the passion in her voice matching that in her eyes. "This is _my _party. I won't let you spoil it."

"Clearly you've had enough, Elena," he scoffed with mild sarcasm, arching a brow as his concerned gaze met hers.

"_That_ is for me to decide, Damon," she hissed, prising the glass from his hands as she stared at him defiantly, before turning on her heel and disappearing into the sea of bodies that packed the boarding house, leaving Damon staring after her, his mouth open; wondering what the hell had just happened.

**Jeremy's P.O.V.**

Jeremy's laughter resounded in Damon's ears. "You just had your ass handed to you, dick," the cockiness in his voice was indicative of his current, inebriated state.

"You're stoned," Damon guessed, his features pulling tight in frustration as he gripped Jeremy by the front of his shirt. "I'll deal with you later, you little punk. Now not only do I have to babysit your sister, but I have to keep an eye on you, too!"

"Get off me, dick," Jeremy grunted, wrestling with Damon's hand in a last ditch attempt to push him away. "I do _not _need a babysitter."

The fingers clutching Jeremy's shirt released as Damon stepped back, scouring the crowd for Elena. His blue eyes darted uneasily about, listening, trying to zero-in on her voice. "Go find your sister," he ordered, his face affecting a serious expression. "_Now_, Jeremy!"

Jeremy rolled his eyes at this, wondering what the dick's problem was and why he was trying to ruin Elena's night. "She's outside on the balcony," he informed Damon. "Maybe you should lighten up, dick, and let my sister enjoy her party."

Damon ground his teeth together. Usually a remark like that from Jeremy would have resulted in his neck being snapped. The little punk was becoming too mouthy for his own good, but Damon let it slide this time. _Only_ Because he knew Elena would never forgive him if he ruined her birthday.

**Three:**

Elena stepped out onto the balcony, the champagne glass still clutched in her hand. She was greeted by the still warmth of the night air; a sky dotted in stars that twinkled in perfect synchronicity. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to clear her head, thankful for the moment of solitude. She'd managed to to escape the clutter of the party, and Damon's overly possessive clutches.

"What are you doing out here, Elena?" inquired a voice from behind her. The shadows fell away, revealing Alaric. He pushed himself off of the wall, a glass of bourbon held in his hand as he moved himself closer to her. "Shouldn't you be inside, enjoying the party? It is, after all, for your benefit."

Elena turned herself towards him, her eyebrows lifting in surprise, the champagne glass part-ways to her lips. "I couldn't think in there," she explained, lowering the glass. "I'm not really much in the mood for partying, anyway. What's your excuse, Ric?"

"I don't have one," Alaric admitted, sipping his bourbon thoughtfully as he watched her. "I prefer to drink alone, anyways. Not that I'm suggesting you should leave."

Elena was much too drunk for this. For all the formalities and sentimental small talk. She gripped onto the balcony railing, carelessly sloshing a little champagne over the front of her new dress. "If you're going to lecture me about drinking," she slurred, her inhibitions clearly having flown out the window long ago. "Then _don't_. Damon already tried it. And he didn't get anywhere."

"Whoa! Careful, Elena" Alaric cautioned, setting down his glass and in one swift movement, grasping her by the shoulders, steering her away from the balconies edge. "Clearly you've had too much to drink. I'm taking you inside, 'cause I'm sure you can do less damage in there. But, right now, that's debatable."

"No," Elena whispered suddenly, steadying herself as she looked into Alaric's face. Tears were pooling in her chocolate eyes as they searched his desperately. "I can't go back in there, Ric. I can't face those people again. _Please_ don't make me.."

Alaric looked back at her, clearly stricken. His only weakness was when she played the sympathy card and he knew that she knew that she had him wrapped around her little finger then. "Alright, fine," he agreed reluctantly. "You can stay here. But on one condition: You don't leave this balcony unless I'm with you?"

Elena nodded wordlessly, scooching herself closer to Alaric as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a hug.

Alaric heard her sigh in relief against his chest, her fingers curling in the front of his shirt as she clung to him. A voice in his head kept telling him he should leave; walk away. This was dangerous. _She_ was dangerous.

"Thank you," Elena's chest heaved as she fought back tears, and the fingers gripping his shirt, tightened. She closed her eyes, dropping her head to his shoulder, her cheek resting against the cool fabric of his shirt. "I honestly don't know what I would have done without you these past few months, Ric."

The warmth of her body and her scent invaded him, and for a moment, Alaric had to remind himself of who he was holding in his arms. "Elena, you would have been just fine without me," he tried to relax, but it seemed physically impossible with her this close to him. "After all, I'm just the loser who sleeps on your dead Aunt's couch, and drinks too much.."

"How could you possibly know that's all you are to me?" Elena argued, bringing her head up to look at him. Their eyes met for a moment; hers full of fire and determination.

"Elena," Alaric's jaw clenched as he tried to mask the effect her words had on him. "You're _drunk_. You don't know what you're saying. Trust me, in the morning you'll wish you'd never said this. You'll regret it."

"Oh, and I suppose I don't have a clue what I'm doing, either. Right?" Elena challenged, a small frown tugging at her brow as she pushed herself away from him. "Just take me home, Ric.." she turned her face away, folding her arms around herself.

Alaric had never felt like more of an ass than he did in that moment. "Okay, Elena," he fumbled in his pockets for his keys, wondering where the hell he'd put them.

"You know something?" without any warning, Elena had moved herself closer to him, her hands skimming over his chest as she brought them up to his shoulders, their faces only inches apart. "I don't have to apologise for anything tonight, Ric. It's my birthday. And if I only get one wish.." she dropped her eyes. "Then we're going to have to get closer. _Much _closer.."

Alaric wondered what drove him to comply to her request. But he took her face in both of his hands and brought himself closer to her, letting his thumb skim the surface of her cheek as he looked into her eyes. Every muscle, every bone ached in protest and he knew it was wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to give a shit anymore.

Elena's hand rested on his chest as she leaned up on her toes, grazing her lips against his, softly at first, then with more intent; testing him.

"Elena-" he started to protest, not responding to her advances at first, before he slipped his hands around her waist, pressing her into the wall as he kissed her with everything he had in him.

Her lips parted softly under his, a moan falling from them as she pressed against him, desperate to be closer than this.

He clutched her tighter, fighting to stay in control of his urges as they stumbled backwards, knocking over a flowerpot in the process, and sending it crashing to the ground.

They broke apart reluctantly, exchanging a look, and Elena couldn't help but laugh, looking up into Alaric's uneasy smile. His hands reached for her face, caressing her cheeks gently as he leaned in to press his lips to her forehead. "I should get you home," he whispered, his eyes looking down into hers.

"You're not thinking of driving in your state, are you, Ric?" a velvety voice intoned from behind them. Damon was leaning against the doorway, watching them both intently. Hurt, betrayal, confusion; all were present in his eyes.

Alaric looked at him emotionlessly, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Yeah, Damon. I am. It's Elena who's been drinking, not me," he narrowed his eyes a fraction. "But then, that isn't what this is about, is it?"

"Should I tell her, Ric?" Damon's tone was smooth and sarcastic. He cocked a brow arrogantly, circling Alaric the way a predator might circle it's prey. "Or are you going to?"

Elena's throat tightened. "Tell me what?" she demanded, her eyes meeting Damon's.

"Damon, you promised you wouldn't do this tonight," Alaric dragged his hands through his hair as he let out a labored sigh. "Don't ruin this for her, _please_.."

"Circumstances have changed, Ric," Damon informed him, offering a remorseless shrug as he fixated his icy gaze on Elena. His jaw clenched. He wondered if hurting her was really necessary. Then he reminded himself it was Elena who had pushed him, right from the start, to always tell her the truth. No matter how painful that might be.

Elena gave him a look that was borderline hatred and confusion. "What's going on, Damon? What have you not been telling me?"

"Stefan is back," Damon told her, without a single shred of empathy. "I made Ric promise not to tell you, at the risk of not ruining your birthday."

"He's back?" Elena looked at Alaric with pained eyes, as she tried to process all of this. "In Mystic Falls?"

Alaric looked at her apologetically, guilt and remorse etched in every plane of his face. "Yes, Elena-" his voice caught. "He's in Mystic Falls. You see why I had to keep this from you. I did it to protect you. Just like I promised Jenna I would.."

"You knew?" Elena accused softly, raising her eyes slowly to Damon's. "You knew and you never told me?"

"Elena," Damon began, his expression softening as their eyes met. She looked at him with such sadness that it made his chest ache unpleasantly. He took a step towards her. In spite of everything, he still loved her, and he hated seeing her this way.

Elena tried to steady her breathing, blinking away the tears from her eyes. "He never left, did he?"

"He's not the same, Elena," Damon tried to explain, the tightly pulled line of his lips giving way to a desperate sigh. "He's not the Stefan we all once knew. He's flipped the switch. He's a full-blown ripper," he took another step towards her, placing both hands on her shoulders, his fingers caressing her bare skin as he made a promise: "It will be okay. We'll get him back..we'll get _Stefan _back."

"Don't touch me!" Elena managed to grind out, throwing his hands off of her shoulders. His touch felt surprisingly cold against her skin. Cold and inhuman. She shuddered away from him, on the verge of tears as she whipped her head up to look at Alaric; who's arms were the only comfort she needed, or wanted, right now.

Alaric tried to rationalise what was happening. She was choosing _him_ over Damon. For a split second, he hesitated, before giving in, his hands holding her waist as he brought her closer to him. She sobbed against his chest, clinging to him.

Damon looked on in agony. He felt his heartbreaking as he watched her with Alaric. Rage bubbled inside him, which paved the way for sorrow. She had blown him off. She had chosen that sanctimonious, son-of-a-bitch school teacher, over _him_.

"If you wanted me to hate you, Damon," Elena told him in a broken voice, lifting her head from Alaric's chest. Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks stained with tears. "Then you've succeeded.."

Damon felt the glass shatter in his hand, but he barely felt the sting of the fragments as they pierced his skin, because nothing compared to the dagger she'd just driven through his unbeating heart.

**The End.**


End file.
